


dear pretty boy

by shocked_into_shame



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Epistolary, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Letters, M/M, Pen Pals, Probably ooc, Strangers to Friends, bi billy, billy is proud of his bisexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/pseuds/shocked_into_shame
Summary: A harringrove pen pal AU, written (almost) entirely in letters.





	dear pretty boy

**Author's Note:**

> this is a thing i wanted to do so i did it and  
> bob voice: i hope it doesn't suck

October 6th, 1984

Dear also desperate student,

I wouldn’t be sending you this letter if it weren’t for the fact that I am currently failing my social studies class. My dad will have my head if I do fail. So I picked your name out of a hat and here we are. I just want you to know that I’m only doing this for the credit. My teacher says that if I show her I wrote you a letter she’ll bump my grade up at the end of the year. Apparently, a pen pal is supposed to teach us all about other students in the country. Sounds like bullshit to me.

Anyway, the name’s Billy. I’m 17 years old and I live in San Diego, California. It’s my favorite place in the entire damn world. If I ever had to move I’d be gutted.

I like to smoke and drink. I play basketball. I like to drive my Camaro and blast music. She’s a ‘79 z28, and she’s my fucking baby. Oh, can I swear in these letters? I hope you don’t mind a few curse words. I don’t really care if you do mind. I’m going to swear any way.

I don’t really know what else to say. Write back, or don’t. I really don’t care.

-Billy Hargrove

* * *

 

October 15th, 1984

Hey Billy

My name is Steve I’m 18 and I live in Hawkins, Indiana. Not much to do here I guess but sometimes exciting shit happens. Yes it’s cool with me if you swear. My girlfriend doesn’t like it when I swear. Her name is Nancy.

I play basketball too. I drive a beemer, and she’s a beaut. I think I’ve got you beat on the cool car thing. I’m doing this for the extra credit too, but it’s cause I want to get into college. Or maybe I won’t go to college, maybe I’ll just work for my dad. My mom and dad are business people so they’re out a lot.

Your dad kind of sounds like an ass. No offense.

I don’t know what else to write either. How’s the weather in California? It’s cold as shit here.

Steve Harrington

* * *

 

October 27th, 1984

Hey Steve,

Your letter kind of gave me whiplash. Not so good on staying on topic, huh? That’s okay, I guess. I got pretty excited when I saw your letter in the mail. My family sucks so it was nice to have something to look forward to. And yeah, I don’t take offense – my dad is an ass. And so is my step-mom. The only person I can stand in this house is my step-sister Max. She’s a tough little bitch.

A beemer, huh? Cool, I guess, but not as cool as my Camaro. I can promise you that.

I don’t know why you’d date a girl who doesn’t like if you swear. I don’t date anyone who can’t accept my mouth. I’m not going to change.

About the college thing – I get what you mean. My dad wants me to go to military school and be a Marine just like him. My step-mom wants me to settle down with a nice girl and become a businessman or some shit.

You play basketball, too? I bet I’d kick your ass on the court. Too bad we can’t play a one-on-one game anytime soon. Hard to play basketball over letters.

What kind of music do you like to listen to? I love Metallica, Van Halen, AC/DC, all that kind of stuff.

It’s warm here, just the way I like it. I can’t stand the cold.

Write back. Or don’t.

-Billy

* * *

 

November 12th, 1984

Billy

I’m sorry it’s been a while since my last letter. Some crazy shit happened. And ~~my girlfriend~~ Nancy broke up with me at Halloween. She got super trashed and told me that I’m bullshit, we’re bullshit, excetera and that she doesn’t love me. She tried to act like it was just a drunk thing but I know that’s not true. She started dating this other kid at school almost right away. I had my suspicions about them and I guess I was right this whole time.

A Camaro is cool but 79? My BMW is an 81 and she’s probably faster, prettier, and all around cooler than your car is. And you wouldn’t beat me in basketball. I’m the best basketball player at my school. Oh, I’m sorry I go off topic a lot. I’m kind of stupid, Nancy said so.

You said your dad wants you to be a Marine and your step-mom wants you to be a businessman. What do you want to do?

I can get into the bands you listed but I like the softer stuff too. I’ll listen to whatever is on the radio.

I just realized I have no idea what you look like. I’m kind of plain looking – brown hair, brown eyes.

I wish it was warm.

Steve

* * *

 

November 28th, 1984

Steve,

Sorry to hear about your girlfriend, man. Don’t be too upset about it. Plenty of bitches in the sea! I’ll be sure to save you some.

Haha - that was a joke. I promise. Kind of hard to joke through a letter. By the way, ‘excetera’ isn’t a thing. It’s ‘et cetera’. Guess you _are_ dumb, huh?

My Camaro is really important to me. I don’t care if you don’t think it’s as cool as your car but my car has sentimental value. She was my mom’s.

I really don’t know what I want to do with my life. Sometimes I think I want to be a mechanic and work on cars. But I don’t really like getting my hands dirty to be honest with you. I’d try to be a musician but I can’t play guitar nor can I sing worth a damn.

I guess it doesn’t matter who is better at basketball after all because I got kicked off the team for punching a kid in the face. He was being an asshole, though. He deserved it. I fucked him up good, you know? I think I broke his nose. It was hilarious.

I’d say I look plain, too, but I don’t. Maybe it’s wrong to say, but I don’t give a shit. I know I’m really good-looking. The girls at school love me. ~~I think some of the guys do, too, which is fine by me.~~   I have blonde hair and blue eyes.

You know, you could send me a picture, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t mind knowing what you look like beyond “brown hair, brown eyes”.

-Billy

* * *

 

December 5th, 1984

Happy December! I am very excited for Christmas. I have a goofy Christmas sweater that I can’t wait to wear again. I know it’s lame but I don’t care. Tis the season. I’m feeling a little better about Nancy these days, especially because of your letters. They give me something to look forward to.

Sentimental value is really important. I bet your car is beautiful.

Really you punched a kid? I used to be like that too I had a pretty bad temper. I was kind of an asshole until I started dating Nancy. You do know that I can read what you write even if you cross it out, right? Are you into guys or something? I don’t care if you are I guess. Must be some kind of California thing. No one around here is like that though.

I used my dad’s Polaroid and got my friend Dustin to take a picture of me. He’s like… 12 or something, but he’s a cool kid. I think I look pretty good in the picture.

You should send a picture, too.

Steve

* * *

 

December 17th, 1984

Steve,

Merry Christmas I guess. I’m not really too big on the holidays. I never was. I’m not really into that holly-jolly shit. I don’t want a weird fat guy breaking into my house, eating my food, and leaving me presents. Sounds kind of creepy.

When you said you were plain-looking, I expected you to actually be plain. You aren’t plain, pretty boy. You’re pretty easy on the eyes. To answer your question: I’m not into boys or girls or whatever. I’m into people – _hot_ people, to be specific. I don’t really talk about it much but I figure you’re all the way over there and I’m all the way over here. Just know that if you open your mouth I’ll get a one-way ticket to Indiana and I will pummel your face in.

Another joke. Tone doesn’t come through in letters.

I don’t think it’s just a California thing. I just think that people in bumfuck nowhere are too scared to be themselves.

People are so obsessed with what other people think or about what’s ‘proper’. I say fuck what’s proper – if I wanna get with a guy or a girl or whoever, I don’t think that’s so bad. My dad, on the other hand, would kill me if he ever found out. He’s one of those proper people.

I got my step-sister to take a picture of me. She looked at me like I had about 10 heads when I asked her to do it, so it better be good enough for you, pretty boy.

I know it’s stupid, but I’m starting to consider you as my friend.

-Billy

* * *

 

December 30th, 1984.

Billy,

By the time you get this letter it will be 1985! Happy new year! I know you said you don’t care about the whole holiday thing but I couldn’t help myself. I sent a little gift along with this package. It’s a mixtape of all of my favorite songs of the year. I hope you like it and I hope it sounds good in your Camaro.

I consider you my friend, too. The kids I hang out with are really awesome but I like talking to someone my age once in a while. I thought a lot about what you said about the proper stuff, and I guess it doesn’t really matter does it? I really liked the picture you sent. It’s nice to put a face to the name. You are a good looking guy. You remind me a little of Rob Lowe.

I realized the other day that I’m over Nancy completely now, I think. I really don’t care about it anymore. A wise man once told me that there are plenty of bitches in the sea.

Your friend,  
Steve

* * *

 

January 7th, 1985

Pretty boy,

Happy New Year to you too. I listened to the mixtape and I thought it was pretty decent. I think it could have used a bit more metal but maybe that’s just me. Sounded just fine in my car, but my step-sister got a little annoyed with how loud I played it. Oh well. I cart her around to school and shit and she doesn’t even thank me. The bitch.

Thanks for the compliment. Rob Lowe, huh? I liked the Outsiders so I’ll take it. Did you ever read that shit in school? I felt like it was one of the only things I read in school that wasn’t total bullshit.

Speaking of bullshit, I’m glad that you are over Nancy. And you are right, I am a wise man. A very wise man. Plenty of bitches in the sea. ~~Some bitches might be all the way in California.~~

People always talk about what their New Year’s resolutions are. My resolution is that I’m going to try my hardest to get back in shape and not get kicked off the lacrosse team. Try-outs aren’t until another month but since I had to stop mid-way through basketball I’m out of shape. And I figure it’ll be hard to get kicked off the team for fighting. I’ll get to hit all the shit-heads I don’t like with a stick and it’s perfectly acceptable. My kind of game. What’s your resolution?

Your friend, too, I guess,

Billy

* * *

 

January 18th, 1985

Billy,

I wish you’d stop calling me pretty boy. I can’t tell if you are making fun of me or not. I’m going to remind you again that I can see what you write even if you cross it out. At least scribble if you really don’t want me to see. But I get the feeling that you do want me to see. You flirting with me Hargrove?

Somehow I’m not surprised that you play lacrosse. I’ve never even met you and I know you enough to know that you’d love to hit some people with sticks. I’m not going to play any sports this season I don’t think. I don’t have the grades for it anymore. I might teach my friend Dustin and his friends to play hockey though. I bet you’ve never even seen ice, Mr. California.

I didn’t read the Outsiders when I was in school. I was supposed to but I just paid another kid in my class to read it. My resolution is that this year I’m going to stop doing the proper thing and maybe, for once, do something that no one else expects me to.

It just occurred to me that I’ve never heard you talk. If you want, you can call me at 765-812-7234. You could flirt with me over the phone if you wanted to.

Steve

* * *

 

February 2nd, 1985

Billy,

I’m sorry if I came on a little strong in my last letter. I was just joking. I hope you aren’t upset with me. I borrowed the Outsiders from the library and I really liked it. I hope we can talk about it a little. Write back as soon as you can.

Steve

* * *

 

March 1st, 1985

Billy. Please send me something. Anything. I’m afraid you died. Everything is shit when I don’t have your letters to look forward to. I’m really worried.

Steve.

* * *

 

March 20th, 1985

Steve,

I’m so fucking sorry. I am so fucking sorry. My dad lost it on me and I ended up with a broken wrist. No lacrosse for me. I couldn’t respond to your letters and I can’t chance talking to you on the phone. If I do, then my dad will ask me who I’m talking to, and he can always tell when I’m lying. If he knew I was doing a ‘faggot’ thing like writing letters to some guy in Indiana he’d really lose it.

Throughout all of this shit, all I could think about was how bad I fucking missed your letters. And you’re right – I do want to flirt with you. I wasn’t going to say that outright but then the thing with my dad happened. I’m sick of all the shit here, and you’re the only good thing that’s happened to me since my mom died.

I’m not making fun of you when I call you pretty boy. I wish I could touch you, Steve. I wish I could kiss you. I hope that doesn’t scare you off.

-Billy

P.S. I’m enclosing another picture of myself. I don’t want you to forget what I look like.

* * *

 

April 3rd, 1985

Oh thank god Billy. I was so scared that you were done talking with me or worse. I’m so sorry that your dad is like this to you. I wish I could do something, but I’m all the way over here and you’re all the way over there.

I thought a lot about you when we weren’t talking and I think I came to some of the same conclusions as you did. I want you to flirt with me. I wish you were here, or I was there, or something. I’ve never kissed a guy before but I think I’d want to do it with you.

You look really good in that picture. I look at it sometimes at night. I hope that doesn’t freak you out. I attached another picture of myself with this letter.

Yours,

Steve.

* * *

 

April 18th, 1985

Pretty boy,

God, you look so good in that picture. I love looking at your smile. I really hope that I make you smile sometimes.

Knowing that you look at a picture of me at night is really fucking hot. What do you do when you look at it? You don’t have to be shy with me. Sometimes I look at the pictures you’ve sent me at night, too. I keep them hidden in my drawer so my dad doesn’t find them. When I look at pictures of you all I want is to know what you smell like, what you taste like, what you sound like, and what you feel like. I lie awake thinking about it a lot.

I’m yours too.

Billy.

* * *

 

April 30th, 1985

Billy,

You make me smile all the time. I’ve reread the same line you wrote about wanting to know what I smell like, taste like, ET CETERA, so many times that I have it memorized. I really wish that I could know all those things about you, too. I’m sure you can guess what I do/think about when I look at pictures of you. I think you’d be a really good kisser. I wish I could look at your eyes in real life. They are so stunning in pictures, I’d bet they’d be even more beautiful face to face.

I wish I could hear your voice on the phone, but I get why you don’t want to take that chance. If I could meet you, the first thing I’d do is wrap my arms around you and kiss you. I hope that’d be okay.

Speaking of meeting, I graduate next month. I assume you do too. My parents don’t really care what I do. I was wondering if maybe I could drive down to California and we could meet up? I’d rent us a room and we could do – or not do, depending on how you feel – whatever you’d like. Think about it. I really want to touch that hair of yours.

Yours,

Steve

* * *

 

May 10th, 1985

Steve,

I think about all those things, too. As a matter of fact, I know you’d be a good kisser just from looking at your pictures. You said that you “do” stuff when you look at pictures of me… Well, you should know that I do, too. When I look at pictures of you, I mean.

I want to meet you. I’d love to meet you. But I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sure you understand why.

I’m sorry.

Billy.

* * *

 

May 23rd, 1985

Billy,

I understand why you don’t want to meet up with me but I’m still disappointed about it. I just want you to know that this isn’t nothing for me okay? I’ve never been into anyone like I’m into you not even Nancy. Every time I reread your letters or look at your pictures I get this big stupid smile on my face. Sometimes while I’m driving or hanging out with my friends or whatever I start thinking about you and I know I smile like an idiot then, too. Maybe it’s weird to be so attached to someone after just writing a few letters back and forth but there’s so few things in my life that feel genuine and my talking to you is one of them. I really hope I don’t overwhelm you with all of this I just want you to know that I’m not fucking with you and I’m not just goofing around here. I want to be for you whatever you want me to be, even if that’s just friends. I can take it.

I graduate next week. I miss you, even though I’ve never met you. I know that’s weird.

Yours,

Steve.

* * *

 

June 10th, 1985

Billy,

Please don’t do this again. I don’t know what I said to make you feel like this. Please write back, even if it’s just one line. I’m worried.

Yours,

Steve

* * *

 

June 30th, 1985

Billy I swear to god this is not fucking funny anymore. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way about me. I’m sorry I scared you off, but you could at least let me know that you are okay. You don’t have to be a fucking asshole about it.

Steve.

* * *

 

July 5th, 1985

Hi Steve,

I’m really sorry. I’m a coward, Steve. If you knew me in real life, you wouldn’t want to be my friend or be more than that. I’m an asshole. I’m really a fucking jerk. No one actually likes me; not my teammates, not my family. You’re the only one who I have ever felt like I could be myself with and I’ve fucked up again.

I’m sick of fucking up. The summer is still young, all things considered. I want you to drive here and meet me.

I’m still yours, and I hope you’re still mine,

Billy

* * *

 

Steve pulls his car into the parking lot of the inn, and he steps out of the car, feeling the warm California sun hit his face. He’s glad he wore shorts, because it’s hot out here, hotter than he’d expected. He’s starting to get a little nervous, truthfully, because driving all the way here to meet a man he’s never even talked on the phone with is a bit insane, even for him.

But when he sees a Camaro pull up beside him, and there’s _Billy_ , in the flesh and getting out of his car, dressed in a open button-up shirt and shorts, his hair so blonde and curly and his eyes so fucking  _bright_ , he doesn’t regret this decision at all.

No, he just walks to Billy and throws his arms around him and basks in the warmth of Billy Hargrove and the California sun.

 


End file.
